If You Knew Peggy Sue (Then she'd probably annoy you too)
by Lennonfan1940
Summary: Peggy Sue Stirring is a long time neighbor, friend, companion and pain of the world famous Beatles since there Quarry Man days. Now at the mere age of 14 she finds herself invited to join them on there very first U.S tour as a special gift for all her hard work and support through the years. But will she end up ruining the tour, and losing her friends?
1. The Chapter in Which John Saves my Arse

**Hey guys, I was figuring since Beatles fanfiction is mainly OC'S falling in love with one of the boys(no offense to anyone, there nothing wrong with those stories) or slash, I thought I'd try my hand at writing something a bit different and new. So lone and behold, you've got yourself a collection of witty misadventures during the Beatles first U.S tour as seen through the eyes of not your average Beatle lover, but of a tacky, awkward roadie/friend of the boys. So yah now that that's done let's get on with the story! Please review:).**

Early January 1964

"We did it Peg! We're goin' to America!" Paul McCartney, a boy, or I guess it's man now, told me picking me up like I was still half my age and swinging me around as if we were Lindy hop finalist. I'd known Paul since his sneaking into strip clubs and doodling vulgar images of woman beside his fanatical poems days, and I have never seen him so excited. In fact I haven't seen any of them so excited.

They came to the studio and tackled me with there news as if we were playing rugby and were giddy with excitement. And what can I say, I think I wet my pants a little when they told me(okay not in that way you creeps). I laughed and hollered like the rest of them, not caring that Paul had caused me to bang my elbow on a wall.

"I-I don't know what to say." I stammered breathless. "Really?" I mouthed and Paul put me down and I had a chance to breath. "Congrats."

"You mean to tell me we've just got done bookin' a deal in the states and all you've got to say is 'congrats'. Bloody 'ell Peggy." John had a crisp grin on that sly face of his, and I knew he was only fooling.

It had taken me a while, but I could finally tell when he was kidding around with me. Back in the old days, when I was eight and nine years old with a bad crush on him, I was constantly afraid of messing up around him. It seemed whatever I did though, he was always mean and displeased with me. 'Course when George and Paul educated me in the way of John and my little girl first crush died off, me and John became cool with each other, best blokes of the sort.

"Well what can I say, that's gear, right to it, real boss and all, for you guys. I ain't goin' anywhere, but be sure to send letters and records." I explained. It was my common rule for whenever they went off touring, going back to there Hamburg days when I'd tearfully type out letters instead of school work and would get back a effortless scribbled out note.

"Oh my dearest Peggth, how could thou forget such a wicked bitch? My yearning for you shallth never dyth, oh my sweet Peggth." Ringo grabbed my hands and kept up with the same joke he always used when greeting me, which started when George told me a lie that he fancied me to get us to hang out more.

"Yeah and your coming with us anyways." George said a smile a mile wide on his thin handsomer-than-life-to-a-girl-who-doesn't-see-him-as-a-brother face.

"GEORGE!" Everyone else groaned and Ringo hit him hard but playfully on the back, Paul socked him in the side and John purposely spilled some of his water bottle on him.

"Wait I'm coming with?!" I gasped, hardly able to keep from fainting, my head spinning.

"Ow, hey, what was that for?" George yelped.

"Nice going Georgie, we were going to surprise her with that news tonight at the dinner, as an early birthday gift. Now we'll have to buy her a birthday gift too." John pouted.

"Yeah" Ringo and Paul chimed in.

"So I'm going?" I asked, looking kind of slap happy.

"Damn kid you really are thick and slow." John muttered lowly, which translates to "of course, why wouldn't you come" in Lennonese.

"Oh my gosh, thank God, Jesus and Buddy Holly I'm going to 'merica!" I exclaimed hardly able to contain my excitement. Ever since I was a little girl watching the sea from the docks in Liverpool I'd only dreamt of America. It was a heaven of the sorts, far away, a distant paradise. It was where all the good stuff was, the rockers, the dances, the records, the freedom. I thought I'd never get a chance at it, and now my girl hood dreams were coming true.

"America" Paul corrected me shortly. "And you'll need to do work, Eppy wanted John to recruit a new roadie and he was lazy so he chose you."

"Yeah plus you've helped us a lot in the past year or so, I mean you almost got trampled to death in Bristol to get us fizzy drinks." Ringo smiled.

"You've earned it." George added, playing with on of my dark ringlets that he thought I couldn't see from around my shoulder. I said something, but I don't think he heard.

"Gee thanks." I breathed, not knowing what to do. It was just far too good to be true. I expected John to shout "gotcha" and Mr. Martin to pop out of a closet or something and tell me that it was all a joke while Tony Barrow filmed the whole thing. But after a few moments, it dwelled on me that it all really was true. A smile started on my face and I started feeling really hyper. So by the time Brian Epstein, the boy's manager walked through the door, I was dancing on a swivel chair to a demo for a new single that I had been told specifically not to touch. We were all having a bit of a riot out of the occasion.

"Boys! Peggy!" He shouted, running in the studio and quickly flipping off the demo, as John did the same to him.

"What in the blazes is going on in here?! For God's shake can't you act civil?" He went on, clearly upset.

"No" The boys all answered in unison.

"We're children Eppy, complete children." John added in a high pitched whine.

"Well they are at least." Paul added good naturedly.

"Aw you suck up!" John shouted back to Paul.

Just then George Martian, the producer walked in and his smile and happy whistling turned to a look of shock. He didn't speak for a moment and when he did, it was sort of awkward. "What happened to the wall?"

I turned and saw a large whole in the wall from where Paul spun me around and my foot hit the wall. I hadn't noticed that it left a hole.

"Peggy." John smirked holding back a laugh. So we're back on fat jokes I thought to myself, still to happy to care. Now I'm not exactly small, but I'm not fat either, just a bit chubby, but when I was younger, I did look kind of fat. So John made it a joke to blame everything on my weight, and every once in a while, it comes back, usually with me getting pretty upset. But I was too content to care at the moment, and I was lost in my dreams of America. Not hearing John, Mr. Martin went on.

"Well anyways I came to get you all for dinner, boys you've all done wonderful, and now it seems all your hard work has come to something. I can't tell you how proud I am." He told everyone, looking very happy in his own mature way.

"Yes food! I'm starving!" George stopped chewing on the tart he'd had in his hand and walked to the door as if his life depended on it. I just rolled my eyes and laughed before catching Eppy's disapproving eye. Eppy, as we called him to save time, had never cared for me. He saw me as a distraction, an annoyance and couldn't understand why I was still around what was now his band.

"Peggy where is your father?" He asked me coldly as Ringo, John and Paul all followed George and Martian out of the studio.

"Um my father?" I asked, dazed as he prevented me from leaving with everyone else. "He's dead in the ground, you know that." I laughed nervously, making a joke out of how I was an orphan, though I knew what he meant. He meant Thompson, my foster parent.

"Yes Peggy, your father, the man legally in charge of you, he should be coming to pick you up right about now shouldn't he?" Eppy asked, obviously not finding me amusing. I gulped.

"But I thought-" I started, feeling my heart sink and tears start down my face.

"Thompson's at the restaurant, you told me to invite the whole road crew." John said from nowhere, stepping behind Eppy. I gave him a grateful look, though I was piecing things together, and getting kinda pissed. The boys had chosen me as their third roadie, but they hadn't told Eppy about it probably because they knew he'd say no. So my chance of going with them was really more of a maybe.

"You mean to tell me John Winston Lennon, that you assigned Peggy Sue Stirring as a roadie!? She's fourteen." Eppy cried turning around.

"Well Thompson said it was fine, I already asked him, he got the paper work and everything ready." John explained. I stood there, awkwardly until I saw John mouth to me "It's fine, go on."

I nodded and walked around the now ranting Eppy, mouthing "thanks" back to John. I skipped down the steps of the studio after my friends, hardly able to contain my excitement. For I had caught the look in John's eye, and I knew he'd won. I was going to America with my best mates. I was going to America with the Beatles.

**Okay so I'll admit, that was a kinda hard to follow chapter, but I am editing it and trying to make it better. I've never been this excited for a fanfic! I'll update asp, as in later today, so stay tuned if you'd like. As always thanks a ton for reading.**


	2. Don't You Just Hate Surprises?

Things have a way of not surprising me anymore, not like they used to. Guess it started back a long time ago.

My father was a member of the House of Lords, a politician, notably one of the most lowly, disagreeable and pathetic creatures you'd ever meet. He'd ran for Prime Minster once, and a lot of people say he never got over losing it. In the middle of his campaign, he managed to get a sixteen year old lobbyist pregnant, and to cover it up he wasted most of his campaign budget. I never knew much about the girl, only that she was my mother, was small and pretty, and died shortly after having me.

Now a big shot politician couldn't have a teenager's death and a little girl under his belt, so he paid off her family to keep quiet, and kept me completely hidden from the public, keeping me locked up in his manor in Southampton, and seeing me only when he felt guilty. I didn't care for him much, he never got my name right, and talked in riddles and ways I couldn't understand. I wanted to go out and see the world, and it wasn't long before I realized that he was the reason I had to stay inside all the time, unlike other kids. I don't think he ever really cared much for me, considering. He was after all a selfish man, most men of his practice seem to be.

He never kept his promises, never once. That's probably why I have a hard time with promises now. I cried more when Buddy Holly's plane crashed than I did when his did, and I guess that's a bit of selfishness he taught to me and kept with me. He did live to be sixty to be fair. It was still sudden, and soon. I was removed from the large manor in Southampton, to Liverpool, to live with a forth cousin of my fathers, Eugene Thompson.

I was seven then, but I never forgot how in the bat of an eye your whole entire world could collapse on you, and because of that I never have taken kindly to surprises. So when Paul McCartney turned to me that evening at dinner and said he had a surprise for me, I already expected the worst, despite being in high sprits about America.

"Oh come on now you what's that look for?" He asked, watching my face sink.

"I'm not one for surprises Paul, you know that."

"Aye but you'll like this surprise, I promise."

"Paul, you do know everyone already established the fact that I'm most likely going on tour with you, right?" I asked. I was sitting between Paul and John, across from Ringo who was next to George. Mal and Neil the two other roadies sat at the end of the table on one end, and at the other end sat Eppy, Mr. Martian and Thompson, who seemed to be having a fine chat, even if Thompson was most of the talking.

"Yep but that's not the surprise."

"Oh come on, just tell me. My birthday's March third, you know that don't yah, if it's anything to do with that-"

"Peggy, Peggy, Peggy, never could handle a surprise could ya?" Ringo remarked cutting in.

"Just tell me." I begged ignoring Ringo.

"Here, read it yourself." Paul quickly grabbed a letter from his breast pocket. I picked it up hurriedly, putting on my thick glasses so I could read it. But as soon as I looked down to read John started to laugh.

"Hey ol' four eyes, what's with the glasses love?" John grinned, snatching the letter from me. "Got yer self an admirer eh?" He added in a faux American accent.

"Hey! John give it back!" I snapped, reaching for my letter. "Coming from someone who needs to be hand guided to the toilet." I added patting my reading glasses.

"Hey John give it baaacccck!" John whined mocking me and switching hands holding the letter while keeping it out of my reach.

"John!" I growled. He only let out another laugh and this time Paul joined him.

"God dammit Johnny!" I jumped up again at the paper and missed again. Now the ordeal had gained the attention of George, Ringo.

John pretended to read the letter, seeing all the attention he got. "Why dearest Peggy how I yearn for thy bosom-"

"You creep! That's not what it says!" I continued to grab for my letter while John made up a horrendous made up story of what it said. Eventually I knew it was useless and stopped. When he had finished I held out my hand for the letter.

"Are you happy now, can you give me my letter?" I asked annoyed.

"I dunno can I?" John asked himself, sipping at his drink and glaring at me slyly.

"John please-" I began.

"Oops" With that John slipped the letter into a random passing by waiters apron, as he walked on unknowing. My eyes narrowed and I had to take huge breaths to keep from murdering John Lennon.

"That better not have been personal!" I glared to Paul as if asking him.

"Er- um kinda." Paul seemed to be a bit dazed.

"Oh come on Peg, I doubt it was too bad." Ringo told me, good naturedly. "If it was Paul wouldn't have let John take it in the first place."

"Well it was a surprise of some sort." I muttered, not so sure.

"You done with that?" George asked, looking at my nearly finished plate, clearly no longer interested any with where the conversation about my surprise letter was going.

"Yep, here George." I scooted my plate over to him and he thanked me quickly.

"Paul, Just tell me what it said." I continued. Paul was looking at some girls at the table behind us and hadn't heard me.

"Huh?"

"Ugh, never mind, I'll tag down the waiter, but I swear if you do anything more to me, especially you John-"

"Oi, get a sense of humor eh, I was only foolin' you know that Peggy. You're like the bands personal square. 'Sides, you owe me you know, for taking care of you know who." John pointed throws Eppy, who was beginning to look, bored of Thompson stupid idle chatter.

I sighed and walked off in the direction of the waiter searching for my letter. I wasn't sure what I was going to find, but I was hoping it wasn't another surprise. I hate surprises you know.

**So on a rather lame cliffhanger thus ends chapter two. I was feeling lonely and bored and felt like updating so I kinda made a little fill in chapter, which also kinda fills in Peggy Sue herself in a way. Square means nerd by the way in sixties slang just so you know if you didn't. I want to of course thank my two reviewers, Crash Solar X and Annadog40, and I'll have your characters up and in soon, as soon as I know more about them and find a way to incorporate them. Remember if anyone wants there OC in this, just say so and I'll be more than happy to add them. And if anyone has any tips, complaints, or thoughts about the story I love feedback and will greatly appreciate any review, even if you think my story sucks, because I love to improve.**


	3. How Reason Beat Me to the Punch

"Hey! Um you, no not you! Yeah um excuse me… hey wait! I said wait! Oh come on I just need to check your apron!" I shouted grabbing for the man I figured was the waiter with my letter. I should probably make it clear that I had intended to grab his apron, not his trousers. I let go quickly, face flushing, falling on the ground. He turned, gave me an odd look, and then ran off quickly, as if scared without saying a thing.

"Wait it's not what it-" I sighed and muttered "Looked like" to myself before picking myself up and apologizing to couple at the table I'd fallen near. "John Winston Lennon, you're a dead man!" I mumbled, staring back in the direction of our table.

I started back in the direction of the waiter, trying to look normal as possible. He walked down a back hallway, through another hall that was "staff only". I shrugged and figured I might be able to explain everything, and walked along through, before quickly stopping when I heard voices.

"Oh, come on Greg, calm down-"

"I'm serious Tim, she just came up out of nowhere and tried assaulting me, it's like May knows I'm cheating on her. It's like she knows about us."

I glanced ahead to see the waiter talking to another waiter, and froze. I guess the waiter's name was Greg.

"Oh come on now, relax mate."

"Easy for you to say, a little girl didn't just come up and try to pantz you!" Greg scoffed, and I kinda felt bad for him, the boys were always putting me on the spot like that, in fact that's sort of why this all happened to begin with.

"How 'bout a smoke eh? That'll getcha cheered up." Tim, who must've been the other waiter and Greg's friend suggested, leading his friend out an exit door. Seeing my chance I hurried out the door after them.

I followed them behind the building, shivering, as it was cold outside and my thin cardigan wasn't doing me much good. I didn't mean to startle Greg as bad as I did, but it just sorta happened. I didn't mean for him to waste a perfectly fine ciggie.

"Um- ah-sorry, I don't mean any harm fellow's, um…yeah, just-well you see." I couldn't really spit out a good reason for me being there, but both Greg and Tim seemed to get over there shock quickly and Greg stood up annoyed.

"Look kid what do you want?"

"Well…um yeah my friend, uh John, he well um put something of mine in your apron." I explained nervously, clutching myself.

Greg rolled his eyes. "Well you can tell May I ain't cheatin' on her with Tim, or anyone."

"Oh-I" I stopped thinking of what Greg had said earlier to Tim and shuddering. "I don't know May, I'm honest, just-um…well give it back please."

"Look there is no-" Greg stopped as he checked his apron and pulled out a folded out piece of paper. His face turned as red as his hair.

"Oh, um sorry miss, here you go." He walked up and gave me the letter. "Come on lets go, Tim."

"Thanks." I grabbed the letter and then hurried off throws the back door as I watched Greg and Tim walk back inside through a side one.

Sighing I opened up the letter. The problem was, there was nothing in it. Like at all. It was just a blank sheet of stationary, completely blank. I searched it frantically, checking the backand putting my glasses up to it real hard to make sure I wasn't missing any tiny print. Nope, nothing. Either I got the wrong waiter, or once again, Paul had tricked me, which was odd, because that's usually a John thing. Either way it was frustrating, and furious, I crumpled it up and ripped it to bits before stomping the bits into the pavement.

Sighing I started for the back door, only I had a problem. It wouldn't budge. At that point I was pretty cold, it was after all only in the upper thirties, typical English weather for January. I was also pretty ticked, and was thinking of what I'd say once I got a hold of John and Paul for not saying a thing to me, and making me nearly pantz a moody homosexual waiter and get locked outside.

So when I stormed back up to the lobby I was teaming with anger. I guess when you're as angry as I was, you don't really think things thru though I have a hard enough time doing that with a normal, slightly crazed mind.

"Um, excuse me Miss., but you'll need verification to go in, we have very 'popular' customers and all the reservations have been filled." A receptionist(I think that's what they're called, you know, the person who just stands there to tell you stuff about an establishment) lady looked at me as if I was a homeless person who'd just wandered drunkenly into here and asked to elope with her.

"Common." She muttered with a scoffed, which didn't improve my already sour mood.

"Listen lady, my friends and legal guardian are in there, and if you need proof just go to table seven and ask for-"

"See sweetie, I know your kind, and your games. See here it's quite simple, either you have some sort of identification, or I can get someone to escort you out."

I glared at the woman, only glared, fist clenched and about to just wait outside. After all, it would give me even more of a reason to give Paul McCartney and John Lennon shiners before their tour in France. But on my way out, I bumped into someone I knew.

"I wasn't late, you got the time wrong Tony- oh hey Chubbs, what's with the peepers?"

I froze and nearly strangled her in a hug. I don't think I'll ever be as happy to see Cher Epstein as I was on that evening(and trust me, seeing as she's one of the only other females that's dealt with the personal side of the boys, that's saying something). Of course Tony Barrow, who is pretty much Eppy's right hand man (I really haven't a clue what his 'official job' is, but I'm sure it's something like that) cleared his throat loudly and I stopped hugging Cher. She smirked a little.

"Whoa what's gotten-"

"-Oh it was awful, boy am I ever glad to see you lot. See John and Paul thought it'd be a lark to make me believe a blank sheet of paper was a "surprise" and-"

"Um, excuse me, but um I'm afraid you all will have to leave." The receptionist sort of woman had seen us, and I guess she still was a bit clueless. And I mean, from the looks of it, Brian Epstein's daughter, right hand man and pain in the ass all don't look like much without the Beatles.

"Oh I'm sorry ma'm, but I'm Tony Barrow, my name should be in the reservations somewhere." Tony explained good naturedly. The woman nodded, clearly not thinking him 'common' and quickly searched her little book thingy.

"Ah yes, horribly sorry about that." She blushed.

"That's fine." Tony smiled as the woman let us through.

"Well not really Tony." Cher muttered. "She was pretty rude about it."

"Told you so! Ha!" I snorted at the woman and she gave me another one of those looks to which I winked back at, before following Cher and Tony to the table.

"Hey Cher, where ya' go Peggy?" Ringo wondered as we came within seeing range.

George waved. "You're safe for now Cher, Eppy went off to the wash room, you know how long that'll be."

I looked to Mr. Martin who seemed to almost cry with joy when he saw Tony after having to bear through Thompson for over an hour, I couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Ah Cher, 'bout time you've showed up, now tell us, is Georgie really the bad kisser everyone says he is?"

"Gee Lennon, I don't know, you'd probably know better than me, after all I'll bet you've kissed more blokes than I have." Cher replied rolling her eyes. I couldn't decided if she was only joking, or if there really was something going on between her a George. Neither of them would tell us. I brushed it aside and quickly pulled up a chair for Cher, putting it between my chair and John's and taking turns glaring at him and Paul. By then I'd remembered why I was so upset.

"What took you so long Peg?" John asked, batting his eyes. "Did you have a little fling with the waiter, I knew you to were a couple. You should thank me for putting you together."

"No, he was taken, trust me. Thanks a lot for making me run after a blank piece of paper. You too Paul, I 'pected better for ya'!"

John turned defensive "Don't you take that tone with me missy, I'll beat ya, you know that."

"Wait, Peggy what are you talking about? That letter wasn't blank, it was about that-um thing." Paul wondered looking annoyed at John. "Oh and hi Cher." She nodded to him.

"What 'um-thing' are we speaking of?" George cut in.

"Yeah, you all know how you two get about secrets." Ringo added. It was true, I hated secrets just as bad as surprises, and you couldn't keep anything from Paul, it was nearly impossibly to catch him off guard, and if you did, he about hated you for a solid week or so. (Okay that's probably a bit of an exaggeration, but he is hard to surprise, and he doesn't like it when you do surprise him.)

"God you're all nosey, leave the kid be." Cher remarked, and I shot her a grateful look.

"Wait, but if when Paul had the letter it was a real letter then that means that John must've hidden the real one." I thought out loud.

"Yap, yap, my greatest trick." John nodded obnoxiously, and I was beginning to hate the fact that I owed him until the tour was done.

"Come on John, just tell her where the freakin' letter is and 'ave done with it."

"Make me Geogie."

"It's fine." I muttered. "Paul can just tell me what it said when he can." But the truth was it wasn't fine, and I couldn't hid a horrible feeling I had with John knowing and possessing perhaps my greatest secret. It wasn't really a surprise, just a matter if they responded or not.

"Really are you sure Peg?"

"Yeah Paul, it's fine, we're all a family." I tried my best to fake everything being fine, after all I didn't want there to be a fight or something.

"Yep, a totally dysfunctional one." Cher added.

"Agreed." We all chimed it. We had gotten back to having a time, and the subject of why Cher and Tony were so late had just come up when Eppy came back, looking as furious as I felt standing in that back all with a blank piece of paper in my hands. I swear that man can get angry about just being alive, I mean, it's not like the biggest, most ruthless prankster had his biggest secret tucked up in his coat pocket.

**So thus ends chapter three, I was super excited about this one. I added the wonderful Crash Solar X's OC Cher into the mix(with her permission of course) and you should all go check out her story "Reasons To Smile" it's a good one and well wroth the time, trust me. Next chapter should end up January, then it's off to the tour, and I can't wait. So just remember if you have any OC's, just send them in, and thanks for reading. As always, review if you could, it'd make a lonely writer's day lol.**


	4. I Don't Feel Like Dancing Much Anyway

**So, so, so sorry this was so late guys, I've just been so busy and have been having a hard time with getting everything together. But I've finally finished chapter four and I have it here for you all to read(if you'd like too). Remember to review, and pm me if you'd like to add your OC, the more the merrier:). **

"Why were you late?" Eppy demanded, not skipping a beat and looking angrily over throws his daughter, Cher. I couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for her, with a father like figure like Thompson, I'd never known what it was like to have a really strict parent around. I would've said something, but for once that little voice in my head managed to convince me not to, so I stayed mute. Turns out I didn't have to say anything, the boys were on it.

"Oh come on dad, since when do you care even?" Cher sounded just as firm and authoritative as her father.

"Oh don't take that tone with me missy, I helped bring you into existence, and as your father I have the right to your respect-"

"Oh come on Brian, it's not her fault, we put Peggy in charge of giving out the times yesterday, I knew she missed someone." George explained, avoiding my look of shock thrown his way.

"Hey-" I started, but Paul jabbed me with his elbow and I stopped before I said anything(usually Paul makes up for that little voice in my head telling me when to stop).

"See this is exactly why you can't allow-a-a child to do an adults job Thompson, I've been friends with you for years, you know that, but it simply isn't-" Eppy tried to go on but Tony, seeing things go out of hand as Thompson stood up quickly smoothed things over.

"Oh now fellas, let's not be rash. Wasn't anything but a little mishap, happens to the best of us, I read the time wrong, Cher could tell you that." Tony seemed to calm Eppy down, because he sighed, sat down and after giving Cher a few more looks of disapproval, had a few drinks and kept to the other 'grown up' end of the table.

John, who was disappointed in not getting any words or stabs in at his boss, took to George with a grin.

"Oh nice going George, rolling little Peggy under the bus for your girlfriend."

"Better than you'd do for your family Lennon, surprised the bus hasn't crushed them over yet." George replied sharply, clearly not in the mood.

"Oh don't you start it with him Lennon, he's been moody lately." Ringo advised with a serious tone.

"Oh sorry, I forgot it was that time of the month eh Georgie?" John went on.

"Nope, don't have a time of the month like you John." George shot back.

"Stop it you two, you're such children." Cher said breaking it up. I didn't listen to much after that, I was in my own world, thinking about how I was going to get my letter from John, until Paul brought up dancing.

"Eh Peg, let's have a go of it?"

"What? Sorry I wasn't listening." I looked up to find everyone getting up and putting on their coats and such.

"Do you want to go dancing, we're all going. It's before tour ritual, you know that." Ringo explained. He was probably the biggest dancer of the three, and sometimes, back in Liverpool he'd drag me on the dance floor, insisting I was good too. And it was true, whenever they were warming up for a tour, they did typically have a night out where they'd go dancing, though they wound up doing that most nights they were together touring.

"Gee I don't know fellas, this isn't the Cavern were talking 'bout, it's a big club here in London isn't it?"

"Oh come on Peg, you'll be fine." George said, and I mentally forgave him for his earlier remark.

"You don't have to dance if you don't want to, you can sit with me and we can comment on everyone who walks by." Paul suggested. I knew he, as usual wouldn't be dancing, but rather curled up with a good looking girl at his side, who would probably be switching between giving Paul sweet, innocent looks and flirting, and giving me looks as if I were some sort of devil spawn creature ripping a Bible in front of her.

"Yeah, come on Peggy, I'm going." Cher added.

"Oh alright." I said. "I suppose I'll go, I probably won't dance much though. So don't expect much."

"Oh that's alright, Paulie's right, him and I hardly ever dance, Peggy. Don't worry, he and I 'ill find ya a man. I know there's a bloke out their who likes big girls like you." John winked at me from across the table, pushing in his chair. I rolled my eyes at him, my eyes going to his coat pocket were he quickly grabbed a piece of folded paper and put it in his shirt pocket, smoothing it over before tossing on his coat. I looked on in disgust,_ that little sneak, _I thought to myself, grabbing my own coat. I raised my voice to ask Thompson for permisson.

"Thompson can I go dancing with the-"

"Yep sure love, just be back at the hotel before two, and don't lose them, London's a dangerous place for a young girl alone at night." Thompson answered me before I could finish, and I knew why. Most Thompson's guy 'friends' lived in London, and he was dying to get together with them for I-don't-even want-to-think-about-what.

"Don't worry will take care of her Thompson sir, we'll keep her from John." Paul reassured, being polite even though he didn't have to, that was just Paul.

"Yeah and Cher too, Eppy." George added

"Ha, you think I'm letting my own flesh and blood go out late with you lot, I'll never see the looks of her again, come on Cher." Eppy sighed and shook his head.

"Please, please listening to my pretty little pleas Bri Bri and let Cher bear here go." John begged dramatically kneeling on the floor and crossing his hands together. Thompson, Mr. Martin and Tony all laughed and Eppy blushed.

"John get up you're making a sceen." He quipped.

"Please sir, I'm beggin' you sir!" John went on, grabbing Eppy's legs and gripping them tightly while the other boys, Cher and I all looked on in shock, laughing. John adoring the attention he'd gotten from us, went on to say, "I'll keep her from mean ol' Georgie, I promise, won't let him touch her."

"What? What does this have to do with George, poor lad, he's the only one of you's who'd still somewhat sane-"

"I beg to differ." Paul cut in.

"Oh really, obviously you haven't seen yourself on caffeine." I noted.

Someone, (I can't remember who) came up, noted the scene and informed us that our rides where there.

"Alright come on now Lennon, let me go." Eppy went on, John of course hadn't let go.

"Nope, not unless Cher's coming. Eppy, I am but a fool, and I need Cher, though she treats me cruel, she hurts me and she makes me cry, but if you let her leave me, I will surely die."

"Isn't that a Neil Sedaka song?" I wondered, recognizing the lyics.

"Shhhh! See Eppy, you've got to let her go, or else I'll die of a broken, lonely heart." John pressed on.

"Join the club." Eppy scoffed, trying to shake him off, but for being just a musician, John must've been something strong, because he kept his hold on him.

"Come on Lennon, act your age, stop messin' about."

"Let her come."

"Come on Brian, it's the only way, and she'll never forgive you if you don't let her go." Tony advised.

"Yeah let her come" The boys and I added.

"Please dad." Cher begged. "You let me alone with them any other time, if they wanted to take advantage of me they'd have done it already, and I'd be back in the States."

With a sigh Eppy gave in. "Fine. Fine then. Do what you want, go out, but I'm telling you if anything goes on-"

"You heard what Paul said, the girl's will be fine." Thompson cut in. "I've got to get back to the hotel, I'm expecting some old friends, two Peggy, remember two okay, but not any sooner than that."

I nodded and hugged him good bye. I turned to see John still on Eppy.

"Okay John, you got what you want, now get off." Eppy said, clearly annoyed.

"I kinda like this, it's an amazing view you know, and you've got some soft legs 'ere Ep. I think I'll stay."

Eppy looked about ready to explode, and before Ringo and George could pry John off, he fell into a fit of laughter and let go himself, allowing me to help him up. Eppy quickly dusted himself off, and Tony and Mr. Martin took him aside, waving goodbye to us quickly.

"Whelp now that the big people are gone, we have London to ourselves fellas." John grinned. "And Cher, all I ask for in return for tonight's production is a small kiss and a night alone." John added, puckering up his lips and batting his eyes. Instead of kissing him Cher slapped him hard enough to leave a small read mark.

"God damn what's-"

"Gotten into you." Cher finished. "I rather kiss the mean old receptionist lady out their than you."

"Yep that's right John, and Cher will be taking part in no risky activities tonight, gentleman's promise." George reminded him.

"Yap, yap, I was only foolin'. Paulie knew that didn't you?"

"No, but I do think you've already had a bit too many and are blitzed, but come 'ead lads Tony said he had a cab waiting didn't he?" Paul said, starting throws the main entrance.

John pretended to be shocked. "I am not blitzed, how dare you say such a thing to the great, the powerful-"

"And the Oscar goes to John Lennon, come on John, Paul's right, let's go." Ringo said taking John by the shoulder and herding him in with the rest of us.

######################################################

"I am not."

"You so are."

I sighed as the limousine pulled to a stop in front of a club, hoping to God the press hadn't beat us their. It wouldn't be unlike them to. I mean they made it to Paul's 21st birthday back in June convincing me that they could figure out where we were going, before we did.

Meanwhile, John had be arguing with everyone else about weather or not he was drunk. I kept out of it, because that's what you do when someone has your secrets in their shirt pocket, and plus one of the best and worst things of being friends with John, was you never knew what he was going to do next.

I followed everyone else out, once it was known that the coast was clear. We all slipped into the club quickly, and I hoped I'd remembered my fake ID (that Thompson didn't exactly have to know about). Sometimes a chubby fourteen year old can pass as 18, and to a bored security guard dealing with big shots like the Beatles all the time, it wasn't uncommon for them to just let us all in without asking us much at all. Luckily this was one of those times.

Obviously the club was loud inside, and it was hard to hear. It was filled with older people, young adults at the youngest, so no one took much notice in any of us. It was a big place, but it was kinda crowded and smelled like a cross between Chanel No. 5 and sweat. Paul quickly found a booth in the corner and took to sitting as did John. I took my place next to them, not feeling much like dancing.

"Come on little child, won't you dance-"

"Stop singing your own material Ringo, I already said no." I told Ringo for the five hundredth(which really means fifth) time.

"So your just going to sit here by your lonesome and leave me all alone without a partner?"

"Sorry." I muttered as "Earth Angel" came on. "Maybe Cher will-"

"Hey Cher it's that song." George cut in, talking to Cher who had been sitting next to Paul like I had.

"Oh yeah, that song. What to dance or something George? I mean you've been staring at either me or the restroom all night, and you better make your move fast on whatever one it is." Cher said, and I let out a small laugh.

George looked impressed and smiled slyly in a way I hadn't seen him before. "Well don't mind if I do." He added, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

John waited until they were out of hearing range to say "Okay pay up you two high betting bastards, I told you something was going on between them. Knew it."

Ringo and Paul grumbled, taking out their wallets while I looked on surprised. "You mean you guys think theirs something up with George and Cher?"

"Think, baby I know." John said, collecting twenty pounds from both of them. "You shoulda heard the bed springs in George's room last night."

"No, no not Cher, she wouldn't do that, she's not easy. And especially with George, you're full of it John."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I also bumped into her in the hall way on my way to Paul's room, you know how he gets scared when he has his own room. And we all heard "Earth Angel" playing and George is the only other Pansy aside from Paul who'd listen to that, and I was in Paul's room so we know it's not him."

"Yeah I bet it was to cover it up. You know, so we wouldn't hear anything. I did that once." Ringo added.

Paul nodded, clearly so into the story he ignored the many stabs at him in it. "Had to be, found a pair of panties in the hall way."

"Oh come on, that could've been some girl of John's for God's shake Paul. Can't you see he's just getting you back from loosing cards last night." I reasoned. To me the story was way to far fetched, but it had made me wonder if they were into each other at all. They certainly seemed to be crushing, but I was positive their wasn't any affair.

"Well I sure hope they used protection, because that would create a lot of shit." Ringo said, pulling up a chair.

"Sure would." Paul agreed. "But at least John would have company in the 'married Beatle club'. And then we'd be the most desired Beatles."

"Oh please, John's like the most popular of you lot as it is." I laughed. Just then, their song "Twist n' Shout" came on.

"Well will you look at that." John observed, lighting up and offering us all cigarettes. I refused, I didn't smoke often, I was always worried of burning my fingers.

"Come on Peggy, it's our song!" Ringo pleaded.

"Why do you want to dance with me so badly Ringo. I mean my God there are plenty of other girls here. Why not try that one?"I pointed to a red heard with a beehive.

"He digs fat chicks." John said, kicking back on the booth, which meant his feet were in my face.

"John!" My face flushed.

"Unkind John." Ringo shook his head and walked off throws the girl I had pointed him to.

"Way to go Peggy, he only wanted to be nice, he's needy you know." Paul sighed.

"Oh come on you all know I can't dance."

"Anyone can twist Peggy, even the Prime Minster. And as our friends George and Cher proved last night, everyone can shout too, if their pleasured enough-"

"Your a dirty pig Lennon, you know that right."

"What did you think I was? A piece of soap sweetheart?"

"You should dance though, try that lad over their. He's tall and lonely, that's your type, plus you loved dancing back in the day. Used to go crazy back when we played this in the Cavern. Plus it's our version of the song, it'd mean a lot." Paul told me, the last part reminding me all too much of when he used to make me show their first record to school kids and any female I got in touch with, making me a Paul Revere of the Beatles in a way.

"Fine." I muttered, slumping off in the direction of the dance floor. I was quickly welcomed in, and kinda lost myself with the music, which sounds dumb, and probably looked it too, but it was fun. It didn't take long before the song ended, but it was followed with "Saw Her Standing There." Since the beat was similar I did end up talking and dancing with the fellow Paul had pointed out to me earlier. He was a good dancer, and I had to try hard to remember my boy Teddy back home.

"Hey you, what's your name?" I asked him loudly above the music.

"Chad, Chad Wakemen."

"Gear! I'm Peggy, Peggy Sue Stirring. Guess you can tell what my lot must've done back in the day." I smiled. He laughed back.

"So Miss. Peggy where are you from?" He wondered.

"Oh Liverpool, I was born in Southampton though, you? You sound sort of-"

"Welsh. Yeah, I'm from Wales, were not suppose to get along very well are we?"

"I guess not, but I'll let you call that one, I'm not cymrophobic(a English fear of the Welsh.)." I shrugged, I'd meant Welsh people before, it was like a American hating a Canadian.

"Well I'm not Anlophobic(opposite), so I guess we're alright then, Peggy Sue of Liverpool. Think they'll play another Beatles record? I'm guessing you like them."

Now at this I couldn't help but laugh, it was like the essay we had to write in school about Beatles music.

"Yeah their alright, your alright. I actually know them quite personally you know, and you can't tell anyone but their right over their." I pointed to the table, and John and Paul started making a fuss and making crude hand gestures.

"You'll have to forgive them, their quite animals and inconsiderate bastards half the time. George is off dancing with another one of our friends, and Ringo's dancing with a ginger."

Chad looked on shell shocked, as if unable to believe it. I was used to this, but I had thought there might be a slim chance he wouldn't care at all.

"You want to meet them then, don't you?" I wondered, already knowing the answer was yes.

"Um, well yeah sure, gee why didn't you say something before?" Chad seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Well I am a human outside of my friendship with them, but it's cool, come on, let's go." I said, taking his hand and leading him to our table. I only hoped John wouldn't be too bad.

I was wrong of course.

**So that was chapter four, and I hope you all liked it. It was getting really long, but I'll finish up this club scene and start on the touring part next chapter for sure. Remember, you can always submit your character(s) to be in this little story too. Today's chapter included both Crash Solar X and Annadog40's OC's. As always I hope you liked it and please review if you would.**


	5. Well All Right

_Mid January 1964_

"So what happened after meeting that Chad fella?"

"Oh trust me, you don't want to here the rest of that story. Let's just say that we are all officially banned from that club." I told my best friend Margo as we walked home from our school, Calder High. It'd been two weeks since I'd last seen the boys who were off in France touring and would be until the American tour.

"Well you sure are lucky, must be the greatest job in the world, getting' to travel, to be around, to touch them." Margo gushed, going into that fan girl state most girls my age seemed to go into when they heard anything about the Beatles, who seemed, by the way these girls talked about them, to be a completely different group of people aside from the ones I sometimes hung out with on weekends. I've always liked to say I have five older brothers, without any of them being my real brothers at all. There's Thompson's son Ralph and then there's John,George, Paul and Ringo. The fact that every other girl seemed to see the boys as hot was strange for me, I'd only ever found John attractive when I was a kid, way back in the days of playing with his younger sister Jacki.

"I guess, though they aren't what you think they are. Trust me they were only acting sweet to you on your birthday Margo." I told her as we neared my house.

"That's because you're cruel to them Peggy. The poor things, you scold them, nag them you practically abuse them. And that girl Cher, she's even worst, I'm surprised she doesn't make them cry, poor little dears." Margo insisted, clutching her Beatles's trapper keeper tightly against the chilly late January wind.

"That's just how Cher is, the boys love her to death, much more than me trust me. And those 'poor little dears' always seem to have no problem embarrassing me in front of all of England that's for sure." I grumbled as I walked throws my front yard. "You coming over Marg?"

She nodded, following me. "Oh come on Peggy, how is someone not suppose embarrass you and laugh you? Your like 5'3 144 pounds and kinda a nark."

"Trust me, John and them have been making fun of me ever sense I was a little girl. In fact when I first meant John he made fun of me, and heck then he didn't even know me. And I'm 143 pounds thank you very much." I opened the gate and lead Margo, who usually stayed at my house after school through the front yard, walking in through the back door.

"See, point made. You can't not poke fun at you Peg. Besides you're horrible to Paul and he's such a doll, an absolute doll. He's not even as bad as John. Do you think he fancies me?" Margo asked as we walked into my kitchen.

"Well let's see, the two times you've meant him you screamed at him,gagged and then fainted. I'd have to guess not, he hasn't said much about you." I remarked. I was lying, Paul and the other boys had made me swear to never again bring Margo to them after she blew there cover in a favorite record shop of theirs, causing them to never again be able to go their and threw up on Paul's favorite vest.

Margo gave me a hateful look. I shrugged. "Hey you sorta called me fat and a nark." I took at seat at my kitchen table.

Ralph, who as I mentioned before is pretty much like a older brother to me walked pass us on his way to the fridge."Oh look whose home, the elephant and her freak. Didn't think the circus was in town."

"Haha, very funny." I rolled my eyes as Margo threw her distasteful face at Ralph who only grinned back. "Anyways while you too where taking your precious time walkin' home from school someone by the name of Wesley rang. Said he needed to speak to a Peggy Sue and I told him to call again at dinner."

I felt myself blush wildly and Margo and I exchanged looks of shock. Wesley was one of the sweetest, cutest boys in school, and though many girls fancied him, he'd turned them all down. Ralph and Margo both knew far well enough that he was my biggest crush in the world(aside from a few rockers such as Mick Jagger, Elvis Presley and Buddy Holly who also had huge places in my heart, and yes you can have a crush on a dead man, especially one who wrote a hit song with you're name in it.)

"Aw no fair Peggy, your so lucky! You're touring with the Beatles and the hottest lad in school has the hots for ya! And yet I can't even get you to diet or fix your hair or flirt or at least treat the Beatles with respect." Margo smiled shaking her head at me.

I was too stunned to say much other than to stand there with this really stupid look on my face, and I didn't know if I should laugh, cry, scream or throw up. I guess that's the sort of feeling Margo and thousand of other girls must have when they see a Beatle.

"Did he leave a number?" I squeaked when I manged to make up my mind by stuffing a bunch of caramel sweets into my mouth, a common nervous trait of mine.

"Yep, left it on the notepad, and do us a favor and don't eat the whole house." Ralph replied strutting out of the kitchen and turning on the telly in the parlor. As soon as he was gone Margo and I made a beeline for the phone in the hall, before grabbing the number and darting into my room.

"Wha-what should I say?" I asked, hands shaking as I rolled the numbers into my telephone, not at all caring the the area code wasn't Liverpool's.

"Come on Peggy, be natural with him, act like he's one of the boys, I mean my God you keep you're cool around hot boys any other time." Margo said running her hands through her black hair. I didn't realize I was tearing my own honey brown curls to frizz.

The other end of the telephone rang for a few century long seconds and I allowed myself to accept the fact that Ralph was probably just pranking me to get back at me for eating all the lemon pie Thompson bought yesterday. Just when I thought no one was going to pick up, a ring was interrupted by a familiar:"'ello Peg, eating sweets I hear, probably don't need that." I could've thrown the phone out my window.

"JOHN WINSTON LENNON I SWEAR YOU BETTER HAVE A DAMN GOOD REASON TO HAVE CALLED!" I shouted into the receiver while Margo jumped, shocked, clicking her tongue and shaking her head. From the other end of the line I heard several laughs. Great he had everyone in on it. I could picture them all lying on a sofa in some French hotel room, trapped inside like prisoners and all huddled around a hotel phone like a bunch of giddy school girls.

"Well, well, well Peggy don't be feisty now. Got you're letter right here, could read it aloud or rip it to pieces. Or even throw it out the window and watch girls kill each other for it." John said through laughs. "You really thought that pixie of a boy fancied you didn't ya?" He added.

"Well gee John I don't know, you didn't just tell my brother to tell me my crush was calling." I growled through gritted teeth.

"Oh come on Peggy he was in on it too." John said, not sounding at all sorry.

"John I swear the moment you next step foot in Britain I'll be on you like-"

Margo jabbed me in the side hard. "Knock it off Peg, don't be such a bitch. Be nice to him." To the receiver she screamed"Is Paulie there?" which happened to get me right in the ear. I gave her an annoyed look and almost questioned our friendship until she muttered "Sorry".

"Yeah Peggy, be kind to me." John mocked. "I'm a sensitive soul ya know." My face broke into a small smile as I giggled a little, my anger fading away. "Hey Paul your girlfriends on the line with Peggy." He added to I'm assuming Paul. I heard Paul go "Who Jane? Tell her I'm busy-and don't mention- you know." I shuddered a little, though I was used to Paul being untrue. He always had his side girls along with his main one.

"No your other girly, the vest one." John seemed to be laughing to himself on the phone and suddenly I heard Paul clearly, I figured he must've walked into the room or something.

"Come on John, tell her I'm not here, or I'm not well, or I'm unable to talk right now!"

I laughed but Margo, hearing Paul's voice yanked the phone out of my hand and scream something inaudible while I simply bit my tongue and took to covering my ears. After what seemed like an eternity of Margo confessing her love for not only Paul but the rest of the band she finally handed me back my telephone, and went back to freaking out to herself.

I only rolled my eyes, you wouldn't think the girl that was too busy to go and see the Quarrymen play at the Cavern at lunch five years ago would be freaking out about almost the same group a few years later. But I could see why, like so many fans she liked them because they were cute, and because they were now hip with it, and trendy. I couldn't hate it for her, for it was fans like Margo who made things like the up and coming U.S tour happen but still...

I took the phone and found myself talking to John again.

"So what's up? Why'd you call?" I wondered. The boys didn't usually call, not randomly like this.

"Whelp Tony told me I had to tell you this since he had a small meeting with all the other roadies this morning over the tour. Apparently they're gonna have these pass thingys so that they can make sure no one sneaks in or something' and sense you're the age of the average fan, yours is like super official, and bright, and hard to miss unless your blind and dumb. And knowing you my dearest Peggy I knew it might spark up some issues, so I'm sending you two, you know, just in case you loose one. Oh and me and the fellas where bored, and Cher suggested calling you. I got the number wrong twice by the way."

I had to admit, it was hard having a legitimate conversation with John Lennon, and I found myself relived when he sunk in some stabs at me with the whole pass thing. I did tend to lose stuff, but having a official pass actually gave me a sense of pride. It was like I was officially being given a leather jacket and slapped on the back, accepted into a gang you'd been following and trying to pass invitation in for years. It was a cool feeling, and I felt accepted and like I belonged for the first time, not just a outsider they liked to tease.

John got off the phone quickly after that, something about having to get ready, and from the noises in the background I figured he was being truthful. I wished I could have talked to the others, but they suddenly seemed so far away, so out of tune, and I felt myself feeling like an outsider by the time I slowly set the receiver down. Margo who had collected herself by then was grinning from ear to ear.

"Thank you so much Peggy, did I mention your the world best best friend?"

"Well thank you Margo, did I ever tell you your the world's most resilient Beatles fan?"

She sighed falling back on my hard wood floor in a dream like fashion, causing me to raise a brow.

"Oh Peggy their prefect aren't they? Just prefect."

"Yep Margo you big goof, they sure are." I agreed, imagining myself with that little pass pinned on my best sweater in some far off land called America.

_Early February 1964, _

A week before the tour, I got sick.

Ralph had caught some sort of flu bug and even though I avoided him the best I could, living with him I ended up with a fever of 103. It was horribly inconvenient and disappointing and Eppy was begging me not to bother at all with coming. After what happened after the "Day by Day" interview back a few months ago with Paul getting sick and us having to cancel, this seemed reasonable. But the boys insisted I come, and promised me that as long as I was somewhat better by Friday, when we were set to leave, I could come.

So on Tuesday, when I was feeling a bit better I rang Margo over to help me pack. She was thrilled to help, mainly because ever since her talk with the boys she'd been pretty nice to me. She also brought over a huge folder filled with school work for the next two weeks, which we both sort of shrugged aside.

"I wonder what the weather's like in America? Maybe I should try callin' George or something, he's already been there once to visit his sister Lousie." I said, pulling out a large trunk from under my bed.

"I 'ear it's colder there, George has a sister?" Margo asked, shuffling through my drawers.

"Yeah he does, and according to John, a girlfriend too." I banged my head hard on my nightstand trying to throw my suitcase on my bed and muttered a few curses. Margo didn't seem to notice.

"Oh really?! Who?"

I winced and panted trying to get that stupid suitcase up on my bed, but it wasn't easy and I fell back with it.

"A-acording to John, Paul and Ringo, him and Cher, that girl you dislike have a thing." I wheezed, giving up on putting the suitcase on the bed and just opening it on the ground.

"Oh." Margo's face turned sort of dark. "So do you think it's true?" She asked slowly.

"I don't know, to be honest I really don't care about that stuff. But George needs someone bold, and tell-it-like-it-is like Cher, you and any other fan wouldn't see it, but if you could try and see it from a real point of view, you'd see it's true. Plus she needs someone who thinks things threw, and thinks before he acts like George, though you don't want to see either of them angry." I found myself saying. I had a headache and the words just sort of rolled out of me as I tossed my penny loafers in my trunk.

"What about you Peggy? You think anyone really, really likes you? Do you think one of them needs you?" Margo seemed to ask just to ask, but I didn't like her question very much. I looked at the passes I had neatly on my nightstand with my name typed on them all nice. They proclaimed me to be an 'officially authorised member of the immediate Beatles touring party' but that didn't seem too special, or needed.

"No, they don't Margo. I've told them before that I'm not like them with that. That'd just be creepy, I'm like ten years younger than them."

"Well not really, we're six years younger than George and nine years younger than Ringo. Plus wasn't your dad like thirty eight years older than your mum?" Margo pressed on.

"Yeah and that really worked out well didn't it?" It came out colder then I wanted it to, but I let it sink in before going on. "Plus it's not like they need me, they just like me around really I think. I entertain them, give them something to laugh at."

"Aw come on Peggy, they love you, maybe not like that, but they love you." Margo said softly. "I wish I could be you and be close to them."

I smiled a little. "Nah, you wouldn't like them if you saw how wild four boys and two girls in a hotel room can get. It'd ruin how you see them."

"It wouldn't matter, just being able to go on tour with them, to have them call me, tease me, to have a friendship with them would just be amazing." Margo went on. "I mean they hate me."

"No, they don't hate you, they just don't always like girls obsessing over them. They like to be treated normally." I explained.

Margo looked at her watch. "Oh gosh it's late, I better get going, my mum will kill me." She quickly grabbed her coat and ran out of my room before coming back and adding"Try not to get the Beatles sick."

"I will. See ya Margo." I laughed watching her leave. Margo made me feel a little better, and not in a physical sense either. It was just nice to think that someone else actually thought that the Beatles actually cared for me beyond just a kid they happened to know.

"Don't worry Peggy, you'll be fine, there going to love having you around."

I only hoped to Buddy Holly's ghost she was right.

**Okay so another really long, somewhat expedition-like chapter, but don't worry, chapter six will be better, I swear. I just wanted to establish some of Peggy's friendships beyond the boys and try to show how outside of the Beatles, even the Beatles themselves have their own lives and other friends. Probably got a bit carried away with that, (and you guys are going to kill me for there being like no boys in this chapter) but here it is. I love the support and the reviews I got for this, thanks a ton TheLoner and George is Mine, I loved you guy's reviews. And TheLoner thank you so much for being honestly critical, that's the sort of thing I want and love to here so I can try and make changes(though this chapter kinda makes it seem like I ignored your review). I assure you I didn't. I to don't care too much with stories without much of a plot ironic as that sounds, but mine does have a bit of a plot, one that kinda falls in tune behind small sort little eventful stories, I promise. Anyways I want to thank anyone who read this far, your all the best:).**

**So rave on everyone(ha a Buddy Holly reference what's that doing here, lol) and review if you could, I love knowing what you guys think. And once again thanks for putting up with me and reading, it means a lot to me.**


	6. Oh Boy

Early Morning, 7 February 1964,

I was up in my room, pacing the floors with a thermos full of coffee in one hand and a small letter written by Tony to me(the one with instructions on what to do at the airport) in the other. I hadn't been able to sleep at all the night before for a handful of reasons. For one, I hadn't entirely gotten over being sick, in fact I still had a cold and a stuffy nose which made it hard to sleep. For two I don't exactly, how do I put this? Trust planes. I mean I know they say your more likely to die in a car crash than in a plane crash, but tell that to my dad and Buddy Holly. And lastly I was about to go to a country I'd only dreamed about going to, a country which I believed with all my heart would be loads better than the one I'd lived in for my entire life.  
I was playing that Drifters song "I Count the Tears" you know the one that goes "And Nah na na na na late at night" lowly on my turntable for no reason except for the fact that the chorus was stuck in my head. I would've tried strumming along with my bass guitar but I didn't want to get it out of it's case which was propped next to my trunk and small book bag. Outside I heard Thompson messing around with the car(he was horrible when it came to fixing anything).  
I picked up the small pass and pinned it onto my sweater right next to my pin that read 'If You Knew Peggy Sue' with a picture of Buddy Holly below it. When I had finished, the car had started and I heard Thompson walk inside. I picked up my bags and ran downstairs, heart fluttering.  
"Ready Peggy?" Thompson asked, a good natured grin on his face.  
"Sure am Thompson. You know the way to Heathrow right?" I replied, trying to hide how nervous and excited I felt.  
"By heart." He reassured, taking my bags as I followed him out the door.  
It wasn't long before we we're on our way. London's almost three hours from Liverpool, and while I had time to sleep, I once again found it impossible. I hadn't seen the boys and Cher in almost a whole month and whileI knew they'd all be the same as always I was still curious as to how they'd act around me. I must've looked as nervous as I felt because Thompson turned down the radio(which wasn't playing anything worth remembering) and started talking.  
"You know Peg, you're really brave doing this. Going to a foreign country all by yourself and going to face on of your biggest fears to support your friends. I'm proud."  
"Oh come on Thompson, that's nothing. I've flown before. It's no big deal." I had forgotten about the plane thing until Thompson had to go and remind me all about it.  
"Well I know your uneasy about that, and that's perfectly explainable considering what-"  
"Oh no Thompson, it's fine trust me. Dad's plane crashing was the best thing that ever happened to both this country and I. If that plane never crashed, this one would never be taking off with me on it."  
"Well that's one way to think of things. I swear Margret I've never meant a person who has a better way of looking at the positives than you."  
I blushed. "Stop it Thompson, you know I hate being called Margret."  
"Would you prefer Margret Susan? How about Meggie?"  
"No stop it!" I laughed. "You sound just like him. He made up calling me Peggy but then couldn't stop calling me Margret."  
"And you've always hated Margret."  
"Naturally." I grinned. "It'd be like if I started calling you Eugene."  
"Oh that's not even fair. Margret's cute." Thompson argued. I could never figure out why, but he loved my real name. It took me a few years to set him straight on it. I'd die if anybody else knew my real name was Margret.  
"Peggy's cuter, and Peggy Sue makes a lot more sense than Margret Susan, and I'm Peggy Sue." I pointed out.  
We argued about names and which was worst, Eugene or Margret until we reached the airport, Heathrow. I was glad we were early, as there already was a huge crowd of screaming and crying girls, all waiting to see us off. It was utterly mad, and I looked out the window bewilderedly. I didn't usually see the heart of Beatlemania like this. Sure I'd dealt with Apple Scruffs, the gals who hung around Abbey Road for no reason other than in vain hope at getting the glance and recognition of a Beatle. But this was different. This was huge. It was almost scary scary with all those girls carrying on like wild banshees.  
We meant Mal and Tony where they told us too, and once we were inside the airport they lead us to Eppy, Cher, and Neil who were all in there own little group.  
"Well look whose made it, what's wrong Peggy? Fan's got your tongue?" Neil asked looking up as we approached. Mal smiled good-naturedly, he'd never minded me to much and respected me probably more than anyone else.  
"Nah she's just a little freaked out, she's not used to it yet. Don't worry Peggy, I won't let them do anything to you, or anyone."  
"Well she better get used to it pretty quickly, because it's only going to get worst. Expect a whole lot of crazy love." Neil told me.  
"Well it is stupid out there. Don't they have lives outside of stalking someone else's? I mean where are their parents?" Cher added. She was dressed fancier than I was, wearing a nicer dress and coat and all with her hair pinned up. I guessed that Eppy had made her do all that, because she looked unlike herself and kinda unhappy about it and I felt a little bad.  
"Cher." Eppy warned. He was looking at a clipboard intensely and complaining about something with Thompson who kept looking up and asking questions trying to act intrigued.  
She sighed. I waved a little, not sure if I should say much.  
"So how was France?" I asked, I had been curious.  
"Same as here kid. Nothing much happened really. Just a room and a car, a car and a room and a room and a car."  
I laughed. "Well Liverpool was a bore as usual. You're so lucky your out of school."  
"Yeah it always was a bit of a bore. Did you here Cyn's coming?"  
"Really? Is she bringing Jules?"  
"Peggy you saw that crowd. Do you want to witness hordes of teenage suicides? What do you think?" Just as Cher spoke I heard a voice interrupted our conversation.  
"Looky whose here first!" John, with Cynitha in hand walked up to us, Mal and what seemed to be the entire London police force behind them.  
"Wow, that's amazing Johnny. Too bad I left my golden stars at home." Cher rolled her eyes but she was smiling.  
"It is a first." I agreed.  
"Oh shut it you lot, your just jealous." John said. He seemed hyper, which was always a good sign.  
"John what did I tell you about holding hands?" Eppy barked. "You don't want everyone thinking somethings going on between you."  
Cynthia mutter sorry and tried to let go but John kept a strong hold on her and rolled his eyes. "Oh where would you get an idea like that? We all know it's Meggie who my heart belongs to."  
"Meggie?" Cynthia and the rest of them all looked up confused and I felt my face turn red.  
"Yeah, ol' Meggie over their, Margret." John pointed to me. "That's her name you know."  
"What?! Peggy your names Margret? Thats-that's hilarious." Cher laughed.  
"How do you even get Peggy out of Margret?" Neil wondered. "That doesn't make much sense. "  
"I don't know, ask her." John smiled to me and I felt my hands roll into fist.  
"Oh stop it you, your making her upset." Cynthia said nudging him. Just then George, followed by his parents walked up to our group. I noticed how his eyes lit up when he spotted Cher and he hardly muttered 'hi' to all of us before whispering to her. This was to be expected considering that he wasn't a morning person. I waved to the Harrison's glad the spotlight was taken off of me.  
"Hey George did you know that Peggy's names Margret?" Cher wondered.  
"No, really?" George turned to me and I gave both John and Cher cold looks. "How do you reckon that out?"  
"Did we miss the press conference? I told you we where late Jane, look John's here."  
"Paul!" I found myself running to him and tackling him in a hug.  
"Oh hi Peggy. Missed you too." Paul chuckled hugging me.  
"Well way to chose favorites." John scoffed.  
"Maybe if you'd kept you're Buddy Holly look and stopped calling me fat, it'd be different" I replied.  
"Give me those glasses of yours and I'm sure I could pull it off Meggie."  
"Make me Winston."  
"Meggie?" Paul gave us a confused look, but only shrugged to Jane.  
"Yeah Peggy's real name is Margret." John said. "It was in the letter. She's been lying this whole time."  
"Oh I knew that, I didn't know about Meggie."  
"That's where Peggy comes from." I explained. John, Paul, Cynthia, Jane, Cher and George all let out "Oh's". I was about to explain more when once again I was distracted.  
"See Richie I told you, we're on time." I heard Maureen's voice drift above everyone else's and I went to greet her and Ringo. Out of Jane and Cyn I probably knew her best, she'd always been at the cavern and she'd never minded me. I felt sort of sorry for her, being the girlfriend of the most popular Beatle certainly had it hardships. Now she looked a little banged up, her hair hopping do was falling down and she had a small bruise and scrape on her arm.  
"Hi Ringo, hey Maureen, you alright?" I found myself asking.  
"Oh yes we're fine Peggy Sue, Just had a little issue with a few fan's that's all." Maureen replied. Ringo, who wasn't a morning person like George simply nodded though he looked a bit ticked off.  
"They tried to tear my Maury from me." He smiled simply as Maureen fixed her hair.  
"So Margret you were saying." John interrupted, clearly not letting the whole Margret thing go. I sighed.  
"Margret?" Ringo and Maureen looked surprised.  
"Yes, my real names Margret, Margret Susan and I'm not old enough to change it. But I go by Peggy Sue, because Peggy is a nickname for Margret." I explained. "Your point is Lennon?"  
John opened his mouth to say something back but Eppy beat him to it.  
"Alright boys you know the drill by now. I expect a good, clean, lightly humorous press conference. And make no mention of the girls, or any of our more than wonderful road crew." He explained. When he said the road crew bit his eyes went to me, and I saw Mal's beam grow wider while Neil nodded to himself.  
"Hey is that the Misses? Mind if I take a quick pic?" Some photographer asked John who was still holding Cynthia.  
"Yep sure is, and sure thing, take as many as you need." John chirped.  
We all stared on in disbelief as John allowed himself to be photographed with his wife and as he signed a magazine for the mans daughter, or so he said.  
"You we're sayin' Brian?" He grinned.  
Eppy's eyebrows furrowed and his face got all funny. Cher let out a small 'uh oh' before a lady came on and announced that the press was waiting.  
"Thanks love." John smiled, batting his eyes at her which caused her to shriek while Cynthia just looked down and sighed.  
"He's in one of those moods again. It's not you you know." I heard Paul tell her, for some reason he always seemed to read John better than anyone else. Paul walked pass me and ruffled my hair before following John and Ringo out the door. George whispered something to Cher that made her smile and I caught his bandmates 'told you so' stares.  
And then just like that they were gone again, leaving Cher, Cynthia, Maureen, Jane and I all alone with just the road crew. Eppy left to make a phone call and to collect himself and we all took to sitting outside of the press room wondering when we were going to be allowed in.  
A few moments later a man came over to us and told us we were all allowed in, though he looked hard at me.  
"You sure she's with you guys? Is she like a little sister or something?" He asked.  
"Positive, she's with us." Maureen answered taking my hand and moving me pass her.  
"No, she only has a pass the size of a small country on her sweater." Cher added with her typical wit, backing me up literally.  
"Ah right, and a Buddy Holly fan eh? That's ironic." The man tried to act friendly but I wasn't in the mood.  
"No, John and them love that American stuff too."  
He nodded and let us through quickly. We we're corralled into a large room full of people talking, snapping photos, eating food and doing fifty million other things at once. The smoke in the room made it hard to breathe and gave it a hazy feel. It was like a dream, and it was a while before I found the boys who where sitting at a large table on a small stage. I could see why they always thought they were treated like they seemed content, each smiling and cracking jokes in that way of theirs. I smiled and tried to wave before tripping over a large chord and tumbling into camera and causing it to fall over.  
See there's just some things you can't trust a Peggy, or a Margret to do.

**Alright everybody I know you're all probably like, what? a update already? But I couldn't wait for this chapter, it was too fun and important to wait, and I like honestly couldn't sleep until I finished it, so I hope you all like it. And if you don't, tell me, because as I said, I love it when ya'll are critical. So yes, there are a lot of characters in this chapter, but I got carried away with the girlfriends and such(don't worry, as you hard core fans know, only the lovely Cynthia get's to stay with us, and she only stays in New York with our lads for a bit) and yeah. Oh and Crash thank you so much for yet another review, I actually was leaning in that direction with Paul, and your ideas fab(Paul's sort of pities Peggy as you probably all know by now).  
But anyways all you reviewers and readers really make my day, and mean a ton to me so thank you once again for inspiring me to type out another chapter. Oh and you all should look up "I Count the Tears" if you like slow oldies, it's a really sweet song.  
Oh and just a little random fun fact, did you know that George, yes supposedly shy little sweet George was actually the lady's man of the group? Even had a 'spiritual' fling with Maureen once. (Okay you probably didn't need to or want to hear that, sorry! I'll stop now before this becomes a whole page of useless Beatles facts)**

** Oh and last thing, the last chapters name is based on a Buddy Holly song, not me being lazy or anything, that just occurred to me now for some reason.**


	7. I'm not Always a Lonely Teenager Dion

_7th February 1964(Heathrow Airport, London England, early),_

I've spent a lot of my life being in the presence of people heavily in the public's eye, while I myself was to be kept as far as possible from it. Up until that first day of the tour, there was only one other occasion when I'd slipped, and accidentally reviled myself to the public. It the day that word spread that my fathers plane went missing and investigators came to our house and discovered me. They instantly wondered who I was, and while family members tried to insist that I was someone else's kid, when they pointed to a picture and asked who my father was, I showed them. After all I wasn't stupid.

Reckon they weren't too happy with the scandal and bad name the family name got after the whole story was said and done, which is probably why none of the other Stirring's mined me, and shipped me off first chance they got, but that's a entirely different rant for a entirely different time.

And now I'd gone and done it again with the boys, and I didn't figure they'd be too pleased either. I laid on the ground for a moment, shocked at my own stupidity, the impact of what I'd just done rushing over me and the start of tears forming in my eyes. For a moment, everyone seemed to pause, before they all snapped back to life and suddenly were all about me.  
"How'd a fan get back here?!"

"Who's that girl!"

"What is she? Ten? Ten is a young age."

"She broke my camera!"

"You'll have to pay for that miss!"

"Who the hell is she?"

"Wait...a kids back here? Get her out!"

Voices drifted through the air and everyone seemed to be attacking me at once, not at all caring that I could here them, or that my back really hurt, or that I had some glass in my wrist. A hand reached for me sloppily, the same one that'd tried to catch me. It meant me with another, familiar and welcoming voice.

"God, Peggy are you alright?" Cher had helped me up and looked at me sort of concerned. Her eyes went to my now bleeding hand and she sighed. It wasn't an annoyed sigh, but more of a worried one. Cher was sort of like a big sister. We were the only single girls the Beatles hung around on a regular basis really, and our fathers knew each other well from school.

"Had to go and trip didn't you spaz?" She said it with a smile, and I knew she was teasing, but I was too nervous to laugh. The camera's owner stood over the shambles of his beloved camera and seemed to not know what to do first, have a good long cry, or rip me in two.

"No, no she's with us honest!" The boys, their wives and Eppy and Thompson were all trying to calm everyone down with explaining me and I caught their looks. They seemed to all have the same thoughts as the camera guy about me.

Cher grabbed my other hand(the one without glass in it) before anyone had a chance to grab me and force me to face the scene, which was very kind of her considering I was very close to breaking down. I knew this was it, I'd screwed myself. I could forget about having a bass or anything nice like free time to go a visit the boys considering what I'd have to sell and work to pay for that camera, let alone go on the tour. There was no way they'd be stupid enough to let me come with them now.

I didn't realize it, but Cher had lead me to the wash room and once we were alone, I let myself have a good long cry. There are a certain few people who have seen me cry, I mean really cry, not that normal upset cry, but that embarrassing wailing sort of cry, the ones only your very close family are suppose to hear. Their was John, when I ran to him screaming and carrying on about his mothers death on that horrible July day, there was the other boys when Stu died and there was Cher, in the lady's room of Heathrow airport over my own self pity. She was a lot calmer and nicer about it than the others had been.

"Oh come on Peggy, it's not the end of the world." She tried to say, fixing up my hand, though I was too upset to notice and kept moving it.

"Y-yes i-it is. Y-y-you wouldn't know. I-t-t's over now, i-it's all over because I'm so stupid! Don't you see? Doesn't anyone see! I'm a screw up, a jack off, an retarded piece of-" I was going to go on but Cher interrupted me and I found myself not caring. I didn't care what Cher was going to say. It didn't matter, and though I knew I was being distasteful and spoilit and it sort of pained me somewhere deep inside, it felt good to be rude for once. After all what did Cher have to worry about? What did any of them have to worry about? I found myself for the first time feeling very very envious of Cher, and very very sorry for myself.

"You're not stupid, and stop that! Calm down would you." Cher wasn't demanding, but she had said it firmly enough that I stopped and stayed still. For a brief second, my hazel eyes and her brown eyes meant, and I saw she was just as disappointed as I was. It dawned on me that Cher Epstein pitied me, and that, dare I think it, she did kinda care about the fact that I had gotten myself in big trouble. When I had calmed myself a bit she started again.

"Peggy, your not in trouble. Your coming, because if you're not coming, John's not coming, and if John's not coming, Paul's not coming, and if they don't come George and Ringo can't and won't play. It's a system, they told me so. You could've killed that man instead of his camera and dad would still find a way to let you come." Cher seemed to let her words sink in.

"What?" I heard myself weakly murmur. "You mean I was set from the start."

"Listen kid, you might see it, but they like you. Trust me, when we got to France they were all going crazy trying to remember your phone number, ended calling almost everyone else in Liverpool instead, that's how John got the idea to mess with you. In fact George was just telling me that he thinks of you as a kid sister, as a younger sibling since he's usually the youngest and never had someone younger than him like you. He loves you,...they love you.I -" She faded off, Cher always stopped herself from being too sappy, but I'd got the point.

'He loves you, they love you Peg' I could recall many times in my life when those words were told to me, and it'd be thousands more before I'd allow myself to believe them. As much as I would've loved to believe Cher, I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. But I played it like I believed her anyway.

"Thanks Cher, really, thanks for all of that." I told her softly. I was still nervous, but Cher knew how to make a person forget their problems, which would explain why the boys loved her to death. She also wasn't easily fooled. Especially about me, and though I've always considered myself a pretty good lier, Cher knew when I was just saying stuff, just like I thought I did.

"I know you don't believe me now Peg, but it's true. People love you, they do, you might never know it, but your loved." She picked out another shared of glass, and this time I actually noticed it and winced. Before Cher muttered 'sorry' the door swung open. It was Jane Asher, Paul's girlfriend.

"Epstein's decided it'd be best for us all to wait outside, it'd be less of a distraction, he also said Thompson offered to replace the camera, he inherited quiet a bit of money, who knew Thompson's maintaining a fortune." She stated plainly, brushing her ginger hair without much thought. She seemed tired, and a little upset about something.

"Oh he is, my dad was wealthy beyond earthly means-" I found myself saying and stopping. I'd forgotten I was the child of a dead millionaire politician. I smiled a bit, content with the scenario. Cher was right, things weren't crazy bad.

"Thanks Jane. Hey do me a favor and see if there's any bandages in that kit there, Peggy cut her hand." Cher pointed to a small first aid kit and sat me down. Jane opened it and tossed Cher a bandaged.

"Hey-hey hey, I can do it! I'm not ten anymore." I protested when Cher tried to bandaged my hand.

"Oh come on Peggy, you need two hands to do that, and you're right handed anyways, how are you going to wrap something on your right hand?" Jane kneeled down with Cher, and I sighed and gave in and let them wrap the bandages on my arm.

"I can write with my left to you know, they just made me use my right in school." I said for no real reason.

"There you go Peggy, are we all better now?" Cher asked.

"Yeah I think so, but you guys don't have to gush over me, I'm not little." I explained as we all walked out of the restroom.

"Oh but you are." Jane laughed, her heels making that obnoxious clicking noise as they hit the titled floor. I felt bad for her, Paul always liked to have a huge say in what his girl wore, and those heels were almost cruel. Though Paul wasn't as big on controlling his girl like John, and Jane was no Cynthia, if she truly hated wearing them, she'd have said so, even if Paul had given them to her.

"Yep Peggy, you know I'm twenty now that's quiet a bit older than 14, got your birthday present, how'd you know I like the Kinks?" Cher asked.

"Their poster's were all over your room that one time, and your always singin' their songs to yourself, and listening to their music." I shrugged as Jane lead us to where Cynthia and Maureen were. Cynthia was showing Maureen some photos, probably of Julian, and Maureen was gushing over them.

"Gee kid, you sure do pick up on some things." Cher remarked as we all took a seat next to Maureen and Cynthia. They didn't seem angry with me, just reviled that we where all fine.

"Oh Peg, your hand!" Maureen cried, and I instantly rolled down my sweater sleeve so my minor injury was covered.

"It was only a bit of glass, I'm fine." I smiled. Cher was right, these people did care about me.

Once I'd convinced them I was fine, we took to listening to Cynthia tell us cute stories about Julian and life around the house. It was nice, but I felt a ping of guilt the whole time. How could someone who gave up their lives dream of being something for a slacker like John possibly be content with a sometimes violent man, who was never around? How could you go from being so smart and free, to being trapped in a house all day, keeping out of public eye?

I couldn't help but think that that was why she did it. That was why my mother killed herself after I was born. She couldn't bear it, and I knew that if roles were reversed, I'd have done the same thing.

It was hard thinking that my friend John, that goofy, crude, immature boy who stole my letter and constantly made fat jokes about me was not only a husband, but also a father, and so I could see how he kinda sucked at both from my point of view. But I'd have never said so, no none of us would have ever said so, Cynthia was happy, and we weren't going to mess with that. We also didn't ask about the small bruise on the side of her face, because it was obviously from a while ago, and their was no need to bring that up. But it made me kinda upset that John'd do such a thing. It wasn't above him to hit a woman, shoot he had hit me when I was just a girl(not hard, but enough to make you know, you keep out of a raging Lennon's way) but it was still unfortunate. I wondered if the others even noticed.

After what seemed like an eternity of talking, thinking and waiting, the press conference let out, and the boys were escorted out to us. They were followed by a very stressed Eppy, but his thoughts seemed to be away from my latest screw up.  
"Gee Margret, did you have to break the camera? You caused a earthquake, we almost had to all break for cover." John was grinning, but this time Paul elbowed him firmly in the side.

"What? She did, what's your problem?"

"Peggy isn't fat, you don't joke about that sort of thing with a young girl like that, next thing you know, their starving themselves, or dead.'Sides, if you want to see fat, look at a picture of me from around that age before I got tall." Paul remarked giving me a wink. I could have kissed him.

We had nearly a half a hour before take off, and I already was restless. The boys all sort of took to their women, well except for George, he just kinda stayed to himself since his parents had left before the press conference. He was messing around with his shirt buttons, and I couldn't tell if he was bored, nervous, or excited, probably all of them.

"Hey George." I found myself saying as I walked up to him. He'd been looking in Cher's direction, and she was messing with John while his wife laughed.  
George looked up at me as startled and guilty as if I'd just caught him pleasuring himself.

"Oh, um...hiya there Peggy."

It was odd, we didn't exactly talk very much, and I'd always felt sort of distant from George. I could tell his mind was somewhere else, as it was most of the time he talked to me. He was miles away in his head.

"Hey Peggy, can-can I ask you something?" He surprised me, George Harrison asking me if he could ask me something?! Now that was something.

"Yeah sure." I shrugged. "Ask away."

"Does...does... I don't know, does Cher ever talk about me?" George wondered, almost timid, which was really odd. Every Beatle fan always reckoned George the quiet one, and while he was no John, he wasn't exactly timid, shy or even the coy type really.  
"What do you mean talk about you? I haven't heard her say anything bad about you." I told him. It was true, Cher had never really talked about George with me.

"No, I mean just in general, you know." He seemed disappointed, and I felt the need to cheer him up.

"Listen Geo, I know what your getting at, and I think she likes you, I really do. The other lads think so too. Just go with it, I mean your not going to get her mad or anything by making a move." I found myself saying, though I started wishing I hadn't been so straight forward.

George was quiet for a moment, and I thought I had gotten him upset somehow. But then after a long moment, he grinned and told me something I will never forget,

"Thanks Peggy, your a real friend, you know that?"

It doesn't seem like much, but that one comment made my face light up. I couldn't tell if I was blushing, slap happy, or just proud, all I know is that George's small, simple comment meant something to me, and the smile on my face showed it.  
George's words never left me, in fact those words carried me through that tour, and many more mistakes to come.

Because it showed that George Harrison really did give a damn about me.

**So here is chapter seven, which was a very long wait(I'm sorry) but I got busy and didn't know how to write it exactly. It was a Cher heavy chapter and I wanted to make sure I got it right. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and thanks so much for the support everyone! Remember to keep reviewing, I love to here you guy's thoughts on this. And as usual I want to thank my reviewers for the last chapter, George Is Mine, The Loner, a guest(hi there) and of corse Crash Solar who not only brought a lot of you here, but let me use her awesome OC Cher.  
George Is Mine: You're right, I probably do need a Beta Reader, and I might get one, if I can figure out how(it takes a ditz like me forever to get the hang of anything) And it means a lot to me that you like my story so much, and Peggy, since I'm always scared of making her your average Beatles fanfic OC.  
The Loner: Thanks for the advice, I'll check it out, and I'll make sure I fix the formatting on this chapter.  
Crash Solar: Thanks for your review, and I've never heard anyone count their age in negatives before, that's pretty witty and neat.  
I should(fingers crossed) have chapter eight up real soon, and after that it's America folks. So stay tuned and awesome everyone:)!**


	8. I'm Gonna Set My Foot Down

"Maybe baby, I'll have you-o-o-o, maybe baby you'll be true, maybe baby I'll have you for for me!" I was nine years old, the year was 1958, and it was March. I was skipping down to Jacki's house, but I wasn't looking for Jacki, I was hoping to bump into her handsome brother, Woolton's most feared jack ass, John Winston Lennon.  
Back in those days, I thought that if I proved I was a amazing musician, by perhaps getting all the chords right in a tiny number, I'd win John's approval and heart. His opinion was my world.

And then there was the beautiful and free Julia, John and Jacki's mother, who at the time I believed was the most lovely woman in the entire world. And to me she was. Sometimes, when I was over late, or when I went to watch John and his band, she'd offer to walk me home. And I loved any time I got with Julia to pieces. I liked to pretend my own mother was like Julia, young, beautiful, spirited and free.  
But that day, on my way to the Dykins place, I was ambushed. Julie (or really Julia, but I called her Julie to not confuse her with her mother) opened the door and lead me inside just as usual, and told me John was with Julia in the parlor. I eagerly ran in, expecting to see them practicing guitar chords, but instead they scared half to death, by shouting "Surprise! Happy birthday!"and popping out from behind the sofa.

I looked around bewilderedly as Julia handed me a very large long box in the shape of a guitar and lead me to the sofa. John was grinning, Mr. Dykins was in the corner sighing, and Jacki was smiling back at me reassuringly.

"Happy birthday Peggy!" Julia laughed. "Go on, open it."

I nodded too surprised to question her. I ripped open the cardboard and there it was, sitting in my lap, my very first guitar. It looked a bit like John's, a small, cheap Gallotone hollow body, but it was the gem of my eye, and the greatest gift anyone had ever given me. I must've sat there crying out of joy for a short while, before I could find words to say anything to anybody.

"Oh thank you, thank you all. But I can't take it, it's too-" I began, biting my lip.

"Nonsense Peggy, I was thinking of buying you one for ages, after all the next Wanda Jackson needs a guitar don't you think? Johnny boy here helped me order it, didn't you John?" Julia said.

"Yep, that fellow you live with won't mind will 'e? You can keep it 'ere if you'd like. And it was nothin', just something to mess about with. I'll expect you'll practice every single thing missy." He added. I smiled.

"Oh I will. I don't know how I can repay you all. I've saved up almost a quint, I don't make much on my paper runs, but I should be able to repay you some fall." I was excited now, imagine my own guitar, a instrument all my own. I could've died then and been the happiest girl alive.

"Oh stop that, it's a gift, for turning nine." Julia insisted.

"Ooo, she's older than you now Jacki." Julie laughed.

"So!" Jacki shook her head. "I'll live longer."

"Well why don't we let her play then. Come on Peggy, show us what you know." John suggested. "Play a birthday number, like, you're nine, you're beautiful and you're mine."

I blushed as John winked at me and started singing "Your Sixteen Your Beautiful and Your Mine" replacing sixteen with nine, while I tried my best to remember the chords which didn't turn out so well. It was perhaps the worst thing I'd ever played, and John'd ever sang to, but by the end of the song we were all so cracking up and it didn't matter.

And when Julia walked me home that evening, I figured I'd just had the world's best neighbors and friends. And while I adore the Dykins, sometimes I really wonder why I found John so amazing back in those days. The Beatles first U.S tour was one of those times.

7 February 1964, Pan Am Flight 101 for New York,

"Peggy! Peggy! Get up the planes on fire were about to crash!"

The scream tore though my ear and I quickly snapped out of my sleep, falling out of my seat horror stricken. I jumped up hollering before realizing the plane was fine, but the other passengers, most reporters, weren't too happy about my outburst.

I groggily apologized and then turned behind me to face a snickering Lennon. I guess in my anger I just sort of forgot about the fact that John was my friend and sort of just went all out on him, grabbing and hitting at his face while shouting at him. George, who insisted sitting near Cher who was sitting next to me had to pry me off him, with the aid of Cher and Cynthia who had been sitting next to John and looked upset with him too.

"John Winston Lennon why the bloody 'ell you'd do that for! You spooked the shit out of me you dirty bastard! I'll murder, I bloody will!"

"Language." Paul muttered half heartily, he was sharing a row of seats with Ringo and taking up most of it, he must've been sleeping too, because he had a pillow out and everything.

"I told you that was cruel. It was funny though." Ringo remarked. "Let Peggy go on, she's hilarious when she gets all feisty."

"No! Get her off! She'll mess up my face!" John managed, though he was still grinning at me which only made me more angry.

"Come on Peggy, he's not worth it. Trust me." George remarked. I wasn't really listening as usual, but I did stop, but it wasn't because of George. It was because I fell into a coughing fit and had to let go and sit back down.

"Geeze Peggy, sure you're not still sick?" Ringo wondered. "I could ask Mal to go and get you something if you are?"

"On a plane?" I asked through coughs.

"Well you've got a point."

"That reminds me, I really gotta take a shit." John stated, looking at his hair in the planes window and fixing it up.

"Remember, Eppy wouldn't let me back at the airport, said I'd miss the flight."

"Then go." Cynthia suggested, rolling her eyes.

"Somebody should go with me."

"Want me to hold your hand in case you fall in?" Cher sneered.

"Actually that sounds lovely Cher, please do. I wrote a whole song about holding you're hand you know."

"Ew, John go yourself you filthy swine." George objected quickly.

"Ooo, look at that, King George coming to the rescue." John winked at George while he shook his head.

"Fine, if none of my lovely, caring friends, including my own wife won't go with me, I'll fine someone." John snorted.

"Shhh! John I'm trying to sleep!" Paul yelled, not opening his eyes.

"Well, well, well somebody's a grumpy Paulie Waulie poo poo today." John sneered.

"Meh." Paul simply stuck out his tongue and rolled over so his back was turned to us.

"Always like Paul to keep himself up the night before something big." Ringo remarked.

"I'll bet Jane keep him real busy last night, look she's wore him out." John observed. Paul flipped them off individually and we all sort of laughed.

"Stop it you guys, leave him be." Cynthia said hitting John lightly. He grinned wickedly on her.

"Couldn't it'd be unnatural too. We pester each other."

"It's true, it's how they bond and show their love for each other." Cher managed.

"I am not a fag Cher, Princess Pansy Paul hear probably is, but not me."

"Yep John, your straight as a branch." I giggled.

"That's right, thank you Peggy." John nodded, proud of himself.

"Branch's are like the curviest thing in the world, you know that right?" George added.

"Well maybe to you fags, seeing as you don't have any byrds." John shot back lightly.

"What about Maureen, last I checked she was a girl, you can even ask Georgie on that one, our little man whore?" Ringo smiled.

"True, I forgot, you two love sharing women. I suppose lil' Chery beary will be yours in a moth or so Rings?"

"What?" Cher asked confused.

"What? I'm totally not going with George John, what are you talking about?" John mocked in a disturbing high pitched woman voice.

"I'm not." Cher said looking both confused and annoyed. George shook his head but this time he looked pissed.

"Whatever, look I forgot why I was standing." John sighed.

"You had to take a shit." Paul called.

"Right." John cleared his throat. "Attention everybody on Pan Am Flight 101 to New York, I John Lennon have to use the bathroom. It's a number two. If anyone would like to escort me to the washroom I'd be delighted. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your flight!"

Several laughs and 'huh?"'s broke out. Cynitha face palmed and I sort of lost it laughing.

"Oh so you all think this is funny huh? Yeah real funny that a grown man is scared of a airplane bathroom huh? You're all awful. You, yes you in the hat, you're awful! And you, yeah you in the ugly dress you're awful! And you with the ugly face you're disgusting."

"John, you're pointing to Peggy." Cnythia stated.

"Exactly."

"John you're a true pansy, any straight man would find me attractive." I bragged, pretending to play with my hair and looking smug.

"Ha ha you got me, congrats, but if I die in there, or never return, you can all tell the story of what ass holes you all were!" John pretended to yell, laughing at himself as he ran to the bathroom.

"Yeah because the Twilight Zone is in the bathroom of a airplane." Cher called, rolling her eyes.

"There was the one episode were the bloke broke the window of the plane and killed everyone." John called back.

"Hey John if you find Rod Serling tell him I think he's fine lookin'!" I called.

"Oh Peggy that's disgusting, he's like thirty something." Ringo scoffed.

"Hey, he's good looking, has a amazing voice, and is somewhat creepy, what's to hate?" I argued.

"You know you just described this whole band right?" Ringo reasoned.

"Nah, you lot are my brothers and my mates, it's a different sort of thing." I explained.

"And Rod Serling's like your fathers age." Ringo added.

"Must run in the family." George teased.

"Guess so." I sighed and decided to get out some of the crazy load of school work I'd been assigned. Teaching myself algebra wasn't exactly my favorite thing in the world, but with John gone for a bit I had a chance of some sanity and concentration. None of the boys were exactly top notch students, and they didn't really understand school work and the whole work hard to pass school sort of thing.

"Oh Peggy-sus whatcha got that out for?" Ringo wondered, peering over at me.

"Numbers and letters, ick." George answered, swiping it from me.

"Hey I needed that-"

"Cyn you know how to do this?" George asked. Cynthia blinked.

"I might. How come?" She asked narrowing her eyes.

"We need Peggy for a bit." George said. "There are pranks to be played."

"Yes!" Cher muttered under her breath.

"And revenge." Ringo added. "I for one didn't like that strewadess's attitude."

"And I think she spit in my tea!" George added. "Plus there's the our good friend John and our Neil. And lets not forget Rip Van Winkle over there." He pointed to Paul who'd resumed to sleeping, or faking it.  
Cynthia shared everyones lust for revenge and pranks and her eyes shone happy to get to have a role in some fun.

"I'd be more than happy to do Peggy's homework then." She concluded.

"Great, now come on you lot, I've got some ideas." George took lead, motioning for us to follow him to some empty seats in the back.

"Get him good for me." Cynthia called to us, and I saw her smiling sweetly as if she'd asked us to pray for her husband. But that was how we were, when you ticked someone, they either owed you a solid, or would take it out in pranks. Neil had scolded us like Eppy, the stewardess was short and snappy with us, and John, well John was John but he needed something to keep him in line. If not for us for Cynthia.  
I would make sure I got something in on John, for pulling his little fake crash stunt on me, but I had n clue what George, Ringo and Cher had planned. And I doubt anyone could've believed what type of pranks you could play on a airplane.

Trust me, I hardly do and I was there.

**So here is chapter eight! We're almost to America, and the Beatles fan's ten, number nine(you might not get this, but you probably all will). This chapter was a fun one, but I wrote four drafts for it, originally it started in the airport, but I figured that was boring and started it in a flashback(which was probably worst). Anyways here it is and I hope you all like it!:). Sorry it takes me fifty years to get a chapter up, I'm a very busy, sleep deprived teenager(school starts at seven on the dot, and so when I get home I'm too exhausted to write usually.)In Canadian summer(in case any of yous are in the Southern Hemisphere) I'll be free to write a ton more, but I'll try my absolute best to get things out quick as I can.  
So this time I got a ton of reviews, so I might mess up your names and I apologize.  
Crash Solar: Thanks a ton for your kind reviews and supporting my little story in your much better one. It really is kind of you to support my story as you have:) BFM.  
George is Mine: Thanks for being a loyal reviewer as well. Love your suggestions, they really are helpful for when I can't think of what to write. And as for Miss. Epstien and Mr. Harrison, I don't know, does your chewing gum lose it's flavor on the bespost every night? Doesn't the eastern flavor come expensive?It's one of those unanswered questions right now and I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what becomes of them;) .  
Somewhere Girl: Thanks for reviewing. And yes, I love the sixties in general, and there was a sixties before the Beatles and during the Beatles, in fact, the early, mid and late sixties were all so different that they could be considered different decades. After all the Beatles weren't the sixties, there was Dion, Kennedy, telephone booth stuffings and etc. I love that you noticed my little sixties extras, I feel that you should show the sixties not just state them if that makes sense, I wish more fanfictions would do that. Oh and the sick George thing, I think you may have caught something there(whistles quietly in the background).  
The Dreamer: I love constructive criticism and the fact you read all of this pretty poorly transitioned story means a lot. I'll try to do better. As for George, well he was a normal person aside from a Beatle, and normal people tend to stutter a bit when nervous or uneasy over something, and I was trying to convoy that. I assumed George would act like that if he was nervous, especially if he didn't want anyone knowing about something. I might be wrong though, but I do try to portray the boys as both real and themselves. And yes I am a Buddy Holly fan(How'd you know?x)). And I really like him. A lot.  
Princess Paulie: 'ello there! Great review, I love long reviews. I loved your points, and agree with you on most of them. The 'award one' is super sueish and cringe worthy and I just now realized Peggy's slipping into that. I tried making her confident this time around, and less annoying teenager who wallows in self hate. Jane and Maureen won't be in the fic much, mainly because they weren't in the tour, I just wanted to show the boys as accurate as possible. And yes, though Maureen and Jane didn't stay with there Beatles, they were still strong, independent real Beatles-girls if you'd call it, and I wanted them in it a little. They'll be mentioned some. As for Cyn, she sticks around until after New York when she goes back home. Cher and Peggy are sisterly friends, like Peggy has a brother-like friendship with the boys, she fights with them like siblings would, and also looks up to them, but there still just a group of buddies.  
Fan Down Under: Sorry I have a hard time updating fast. I'm glad you like my story though.  
Spencer: Thanks for the feedback, I love it when you all review.  
Wew, that was a lot, but that's a good sign, this fic is growing and it makes me super happy. Now I feel I should explain some sixties references in this chapter. The Twilight Zone, in case you didn't know was a popular science fiction program in the sixties, and Rod Sterling was the creator and narrator of it. I recommend watching it if you never have.  
"Maybe Baby" Was a 1957 Buddy Holly hit.  
Rip Van Winkle was an America guy who fell asleep for twenty years. **

**The title "I'm Gonna Set my Foot Down" is yet another Holly song.**

**And I think that's all. Review if you could and stay fab!**


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